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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Beth Norvell A Romance of the West"

Drop your muzzle on this native son,
and if the fellow makes a suspicious move, plug him, you understand?"
"Ye bet Oi do, sor. Sthep out there, Burke, yer slab-sided boss o'
Swades, or Oi 'll show ye what a dacent Oirishman--an O'Brien,
bedad,--thinks o' the loikes of ye; Oi will that."
With sympathetic gentleness, and in all the tenderness possible, their
eyes moist, and everything else forgotten excepting their sad task,
Hicks and Winston kneeled on the hard rock and lifted the slender
figure of Mercedes in their arms. Slowly, without the exchange of a
word, the little concourse turned in the darkness, and advanced in the
direction of the cabin, bearing the silent burden. They walked with
bowed heads and careful steps, their hearts heavy. With a faint whinny
the girl's deserted pony trotted forward from out the shadow where he
had been left, sniffed at her trailing skirt with outstretched nose,
and fell in behind, walking with head bent almost to the ground as
though he also understood and mourned.


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